


Wrong Side of the Tracks : Prologue 1 - Maria, May 2008

by Moondreamer



Series: Wrong Side of the Tracks [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Altair is an asshole (sometimes), Alternate Universe - College/University, Au in which Malik and Altair own a parkour school and Kadar and Maria are friends, F/M, M/M, Maria as main PoV character, Multi, Parkour School
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-02-21 23:43:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2486657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moondreamer/pseuds/Moondreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kadar has been for sick several days now, and Maria volonteers to bring him his school assignments. She meets Malik and Altair doing parkour and learns theyre both assholes...  First Prologue to "Wrong Side of the Tracks", set 6 years before the main story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrong Side of the Tracks : Prologue 1 - Maria, May 2008

**Author's Note:**

> This prologue and the second prologue are not necessary to the understanding of the main story, but both scenes were churning in my mind and explain a bit where everyone is coming from. I will be posting chapter 1 of the main story as soon as it's done, in the mean time, please enjoy and don't hesitate to leave comments :)

_**St. Louis, May 2008** _

When the bus came to a standstill, Maria looked down at the piece of paper in her hand to confirm she’d arrived at the right stop, before stepping out. Standing on the corner of the street, she looked around and grinned. If only her father knew where she was right now, he’d have a fit. Her smile slipped and she made a face as she imaged his reaction. She grimaced. She better never let him know she’d come here, even if she had a good reason for making the trip. 

She hauled her backpack on her shoulders with a wince. Twice the books and twice the weight made for an unwieldy burden, but fortunately she didn’t have very far to walk. She looked down at the paper in her hand again. According to the crudely drawn map Mr Ad-Sinon, the math teacher, had made for her, the Al-Sayf’s apartment building was situated less than a quarter of a mile away, probably one of those depressing brown six storey cubes she could see a few streets away.

Poor Kadar. Knowing about him, he had to feel really sick to have missed more than one day of school. The boy was dedicated to his studies, if nothing else. She didn’t know him well—who did? The kid was shy and barely spoke to anyone—and only knew that he came from a Syrian immigrant family and that the reason he attended their private high school was because of an academic scholarship offered to promising students.

Not like her, that was for sure. The only reason she went to that school was because her family had enough money to send her there. It certainly wasn’t because of her grades.

As she made her way down the street, Maria garnered some curious glances and a few outright stares from passersby. She realized her posh school uniform was quite out of place in this poor immigrant neighborhood. She quickened her pace, uncomfortable with some of the more aggressive stares. She felt out of place, and wished she could have changed into something else back at school. She hated the whole catholic schoolgirl look anyway. Unfortunately, she didn’t keep everyday clothes in her locker.

“750, 752, 754,” she muttered under her breath as she passed the identical brick buildings. She couldn’t be too far now, as her note indicated 762 as being Kadar’s address.

A curse, followed by a full-belly laughter made her look up and search for the origin of the voices. Two boys—young men really, as they both looked older than her by at least a few years—were hanging around a small sorry-looking playground, and the shorter, darker of the two was laughing at his companion. At first, she dismissed them as a pair of stupid teens, probably doing drugs or sharing a smoke, but her prejudices were proven wrong in the most spectacular manner. The laughing one, after he’d calmed down, said something in what she supposed could be arabic and slapped his companion’s shoulder. The taller boy snapped back something that made the other laugh again and made a rude gesture at him. Then, he started running. Maria froze on the spot, her mouth probably hanging open, as he flew over the playground’s equipment as though he was more of a bird than a man.

She’d never seen anyone move like that before. Years of gymnastic training told her how much practice went behind those jumps that he made appear completely natural. She wanted to know how to do that.

Before she could think better of it, Maria crossed the street and stopped at the playground’s entrance.

“Hey look, Altair, you got yourself a fan,” the shorter of the two drawled when he caught sight of her.

The taller one, Altair, stopped on top of the playground’s tallest play structure and squatted down so he could give her the ol’ hairy eyeball. “That uniform… isn’t she from your brother’s school, Malik?” he asked.

The other one, Malik, grunted. “Yeah. Could be.” He turned to her. “If you’re there for Kadar, he’s probably still in his bedroom coughing his lungs out.” With that, he dismissed her presence completely.

Maria nodded. So this was Kadar’s brother, then? She filed the information away. She felt herself begin to flush as she took a deep breath and asked Altair, “How did you do that? Where did you learn? Can you teach me?”

When Altair’s expression turned into a sneer, she knew she’d have more chance of asking for an ice cream cone in hell than getting him to teach her, but she forged on, “Please?”

He looked her up and down, before replying with disdain plain in his voice, “You?”

Her cheeks burned hotter, but she answered, “Yeah, me,”

“Can’t. First time you break a nail, you’ll go cry to daddy and mommy. I know your style. Too much money and not enough brains.” 

Maria’s mouth hung open at the insult. “I’m not like that!” she protested. She’d never gone to cry to mommy and daddy for anything, and certainly wouldn’t start now.

“Yeah, sure, princess.” He jumped down the structure, rolling as he landed to soften the shock on his knees, and got back up no more than three feet away from her. He stood quite a bit taller than her, and she barely repressed her first instinct to step back. With his golden eyes, mussed light brown hair, tanned skin, and that scar on the right side of his lips giving his feature some character, he could have been called handsome in other circumstances. Right now, though, Maria would have been more inclined to punch him. 

“Try me, you’ll see,” she said, pitching her chin forward. She hated that her voice sounded weak and uncertain. She hated that she felt intimidated by the both of them—especially since one of them was Kadar’s brother. 

“No,” Altair replied flatly. “Now go away. We don’t need spectators.”

He turned his back on her and walked back toward Malik. They exchanged a few sentences in arabic, and Altair laughed. Maria thought they might be laughing at her, and that thought had her glaring at them, not moving an inch. 

“Still there?” Altair glowered. “I told you. We don’t need spectators. So, shoo, princess!”

Incensed by Altair’s continued insults, she raised a hand and gave him the finger. It only made the two of them laugh harder, and she ended up turning away from them with her back ramrod straight, her cheeks flaming, and shaking with anger. “Screw you,” she said under her breath. “Acting like twelve year-old babies who think girls have cooties.”

She didn’t need them anyway. She could figure out on her own what it was they were doing. She’d practiced gymnastic for years until the competitive aspect of the sport had worn her down. She could definitely learn to do what they did on her own. For now, she would give Kadar his assignment for the week and hopefully leave his apartment before she met the asshole big brother and his asshole friend again.

*****

“Your brother and his friend are assholes,” Maria announced as she lowered her backpack to the floor.

Kadar, eyes puffy and nose red from what looked to be a bad case of the flu, looked at her blurrily from his position on the couch. For a second, he gaped at her, and she had to wonder if that was because of what she’d said or because he simply couldn’t breathe through his nose. In doubt, she clarified, “You know, Malik? He’s your brother, right?”

“You met my brother?” Kadar replied, his voice hoarse and his tone puzzled. 

“I did. On the playground in front of your building. He was with another guy named Altair.”

“Oh.” He sniffed. “My brother… didn’t do anything too bad, did he?”

“Nah. It was mostly his friend, Altair, who was rude.” Maria shrugged, pretending she didn’t mind. “Doesn’t matter. I can learn on my own.”

“Urgh,” Kadar said, looking like he wasn’t sure what she was talking about.

“Whatever they were doing on that playground,” she clarified.

“Oh… parkour?”

“Is that what it’s called?”

“Yeah. They were rude to you… about parkour?”

She shrugged again. “As I said, it doesn’t matter. I don’t need them. By the way, you really sound like death warmed over, just saying.” She smiled to show she didn’t mean it meanly.

Kadar tried to laugh, but his efforts ended up in a coughing fit. He excused himself weakly and grabbed another tissue from the box beside him. Once he could talk again, he asked, uncertain, “You’re Maria Thorpe, right? From my science classes…”

Maria nodded, somewhat surprised he remembered. “You got it in one. Mr. Ad-Sinan asked me to give you this week’s math assignments.”

Kadar grimaced. “You shouldn’t have bothered.”

“Oh, I don’t mind at all. No worry.”

He shook his head. “I mean… I’ve done those assignments already.” He blushed slightly. “A month ago? Two? I don’t remember.”

Maria stared at him as though he had grown a third eyes. He’d done the assignments a month ago!? She could barely understand the material, even after studying it for the last week. “Seriously?”

Kadar chuckled, then coughed. “Seriously.”

“Oh, wow. I wish I could have done that. It’ll take me forever to do them.”

Kadar worried the corner of the blanket he was wrapped in, blushing even more, before saying in a shy voice. “I could help you with them, if you want.”

“Really?” She grinned. For once, she might be able to get a good grade on those damn math assignments.

Kadar nodded. “To make up for my brother and Altair being assholes.” He grunted, then said under his breath, “I can’t believe they hope to one day open a gym, with that kind of attitude...”

“That… that would be really cool. Thank you.”

“My pleasure. As long as you don’t mind the coughing and hacking.”

She waved that away. “I don’t.”

She sat down at the coffee table and got her textbooks out of her bag. Her meeting with Malik and Altair forgotten, she and Kadar spent the next hour pouring over the assignments Mr. Ad-Sinan had given them. Kadar explained things much better than their teacher, Maria thought. She would have to ask him for help more often.

Maybe this would be the start of a friendship, as unlikely as it sounded.


End file.
